


fingerprints

by paperprincess



Category: Ava's Demon
Genre: Kinda, M/M, NSFW, Oneshot, they fuck but it's not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 05:10:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2416118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperprincess/pseuds/paperprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is short</p>
            </blockquote>





	fingerprints

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry

There’s nothing soft about how you hold me. There’s nothing sweet about the kisses you leave splashed across my skin and I find myself unable to complain. The way your hands move, like you want to leave your fingerprints for all to see, the bruises and the blood and the pain.

The way you slam me into walls and growl in my ear with your dark blue eyes that used to make me think of the sky but now make me think of bruises the day after I earn them, patterned across my pale skin where you laid your hands.

I love the way you hiss my name as you come, your blue skin flushing navy, your hair slicked back with sweat as your breath comes in pants, the way you bite my shoulder as it overcomes you, your limbs trembling as you whisper terrible things into my ear.

How I belong to you and you’d sooner kill me than let me go. You grip me, hold me, touch me, pull me apart and stitch me together and you don’t let me come till I’m screaming, I’m yours, I’m yours.

I hate you. I hate you and I wonder how I got into this mess. 

Then I see your eyes and the way you look at me when I try to sneak away in the early hours of the morning, with eyes that don’t remember how the world has hurt you and hoarse whispers of

“Stay Odin, please, just a few more hours, I don’t wanna sleep alone,”

And how if I don’t fall back into bed at that you crawl out, you push one hand up, across my stomach, under my shirt that hadn’t yet settled around my waist and your other down my jeans, not yet zipped up, and you pull me close and you whisper horrible things in my ear again, the things you’d do if I didn’t stay.

You pull me against you. You lick a stripe up the side of my neck and you bite the sensitive skin below my ear, pressing your hand harder into my crotch, pulling me back into bed, making me unravel.

You tell me I can’t leave you until you let me. You whisper that I’m a good boy, you push me into the bed and pull away the clothes I had just struggled into. You always need control, you always take it. 

I don’t think you have sex with me because you want it. I think it’s just another thing you can do to distance yourself from who you were before. I think it’s about power. Power over me, over the ones who brainwashed you at that fancy TITAN school, over that bright eyed doctor-in-training you used to be. You fuck me for control and I give it to you every time. I put up a fight about it every now and again. When I feel used and upset and resentful, but I give it to you eventually, and you always give me what I need.

I’m a sick twisted fuck, but I need you to hold me and I need the kisses you leave splattered across my skin. I need your fingerprints because they make me feel like someone cares, they let me lie to myself just a little more.


End file.
